Lately I’ve found myself bursting with de-motivation, filled to the brim with a lack of energy, and exploding with an enthusiastic reluctance to do anything. I’ve been relatively subdued in all my dealings with people, where I would normally be gesturing and chattering like an endlessly whirling dervish, full of charm and wide smiles, eyes alert and mind awake. Not sure what it is, but this month I seem to have lost my soul. Er… not that I’m currently brain-dead…
Okay, so I have a problem. Some brain-dead politician was singing John Ashcroft’s praises the other day, and he used a word that jumped out at me and made me do a double-take. I cried out: “Did he just say ‘stiff-assed’?!” I was shocked — shocked, I tell you. I’m against John Ashcroft’s nomination, but I didn’t expect such language coming from someone who supported him. I was given a smile. “Stiff-assed? That’s a good word for Ashcroft.” “Well, sure,…
Time out. My head’s exploding. I’ve yet to complete my work-related projects, but I simply had to focus on something else. I anticipate slaving away until late tonight, then starting all over again early tomorrow morning and through to tomorrow night — some last minute thingamajig that was thrown my way like a hot potato. I work well under pressure, but my eyes always end up popping out and rolling onto the floor during crises. Hence my taking a break;…
Danger exists in telecommuting — myopia, distraction, lethargy, and apathy. These four walls stand too closely together, and I don’t have the excuse of a commute to get out and drive through long stretches of road, focusing my eyes on something farther than my hands can reach. I have other things to see: my personal computer, my cat, my bed, my fridge, and my TV; it’s hard to keep on working when I know a nap is only three feet…
I started writing in journals when I was in the fifth grade. Someone had given me a Hello Kitty and Friends diary in pale pinks, greens, and yellows. Flowers and cute rounded creatures adorned the lined pages, with barely enough room to actually write. I wrote one or two entries then forgot all about the diary until the next year, when I was in the sixth grade. I guess I thought back then that the diary would last me a…